Chapter 9:

The bright morning sun glistened in the water as the waves gently crashed into the shore. The beach was completely empty, save for a young man lying face-down in the muddy shoreline. The cries of the seagulls overhead slowly awoke him.

"Wh-Where am I?" he wondered.

Thomas remembered jumping off of a boat – Everything afterwards was a complete blur. As Thomas stood, he wiped his shirt, which was soaked and filthy. Not far from where Thomas stood, his trusted rapier lay, covered in mud and seaweed. Thomas promptly picked it up and cleaned it.

"Christine," Thomas thought, "I let you down, didn't I? I'm your husband; I'm supposed to protect you…"

Thomas trekked through the sandy beach for some time before reuniting with Kyria, who had been sitting atop a large rock, staring out into the sea.

"Kyria?" said Thomas, sprinting towards her.

Like Thomas, Kyria's clothes were tattered and muddy. Her eyes were vacant and expressionless as she stared out into the water. Thomas waved at her to grab her attention.

"Huh?" she said, upon seeing Thomas, "Oh. You're awake? Good."

Kyria jumped down from the rock and approached Thomas.

"Let's get moving," she said, "There should be a town nearby."

"'Get moving'?" demanded Thomas, "Do you even know where the hell we are?"

"If I had to guess," began Kyria, "Central Albania. Likely somewhere outside of Durrës."

Kyria picked up her sword and shield, which lay on the ground and began walking. Kyria's total indifference further fueled Thomas' mounting frustration over his current predicament. Despite his anger, he followed her, albeit reluctantly.

"They must have indoctrinated him," Kyria muttered, "While he was undercover. They must have caught him spying and instead of killing him, they…"

"Kyria," began Thomas, "No one indoctrinated anyone. Sarpedon alone is responsible his actions, you hear me?"

"That's not possible. I traveled with him for years. I knew him better than anyone! I trusted him."

"The same way you trusted Greed and Dampierre?"

Kyria suddenly stopped walking and turned to face Thomas.

"Excuse me?" she barked, visibly offended by his remark.

"Recall," began Thomas, "The number of times we were betrayed by those you said could be trusted. Or, how every single time you told me you had a plan, things always degenerated into bloodshed and chaos. Everything my wife said about you was right!"

"How dare you accuse me of letting my guard down! Everything I did, it was to protect you and Christine! How could I have possibly foreseen every single outcome?"

"Well, for one, I figured your imaginary friends would've given you a heads-up! You know what? Perhaps Hephaestus knows where my wife is. Why don't you ask him?"

"YOU ARE NOT THE ONLY ONE WHO LOST SOMEONE, ALRIGHT?"

Kyria bit her lip and stopped herself from saying anymore. Thomas slowly backed away her; until now, he had never seen Kyria this emotional.

"Perhaps it's best I travel on my own," he said, meekly

Thomas turned and began walking the opposite way.

"Where are you going to go?" Kyria demanded, "You don't even know where you are! We have a better chance of surviving if we stay together!"

Thomas ignored Kyria and picked up the pace. Nothing mattered to him anymore; all he wanted was to be alone. In turn, Kyria made no effort to stop him. She realized that Thomas' words, however harsh, were true: She had failed. As Thomas slowly faded from her sight, she lowered her head and began walking the other way.

For hours, Thomas walked southward with no particular destination in mind. He had no food and no water, and shelter from the blistering sun was hard to come by. For most of his journey, Thomas followed the length of the Adriatic coast; the sound of the waves crashing was calming, but also a grim reminder of last night's events.

With his thirst and exhaustion mounting, Thomas grew desperate to find some kind of settlement. Thomas had walked a considerable distance from the beach and was no longer certain if he knew how to get back. Thus, he pressed onward.

As the sun began to set, Thomas stumbled upon the ruins of an ancient citadel, which appeared Byzantine in origin. Most of its walls had completely collapsed, exposing the interior, which had been overtaken by weeds and grass. Whatever treasures this place once held had all been looted long ago.

"Fascinating," said Thomas, as he stepped onto the castle grounds.

Lacking the physical or mental strength to carry on, Thomas slumped onto a large stone and tried to rest. So many thoughts raced through his head at that moment, though he was unable to process any of them. All he knew for sure was that his journey was over. Christine was gone and there was little he could do to save her. There was nothing left to but drift off into slumber…

"Thomas…"

A disembodied voice snapped Thomas out of his trance.

"Who's there?" demanded Thomas, looking around.

A large sphere of white light materialized several feet away from Thomas. The light was stronger than the sun, yet it did not blind Thomas.

"Thomas," the sphere spoke again, "It is good to finally speak to you…"

"Wh-Who are you?" the young man asked.

"I go by many names," said the being, "Ptah, Vulcan, Svarog…But you know me best as Hephaestus, god of fire and forge."

"Ha!" Thomas laughed, "It's finally happened! I've lost my bloody mind! I suppose it was only a matter of time!"

"You are entitled to think whatever you want of me, Thomas," said Hephaestus, "But do not be so quick to brush me off before I say what it is I came here to say."

"And what would that be?"

"Do not lose hope. I understand things look grim, but you've come too far to give up now."

"'Grim' doesn't even begin to describe my current scenario. Look around you; I am the middle of nowhere with no mode of transport, my wife is the hands of a dangerous cult, and the only friend I have left is a woman who has thus far broken every promise she made to me!"

"You cannot blame Kyria for all of your problems. She was given a difficult, but important mission, and until now, she has carried it out well."

"Yes, but…"

"She is a strong woman, but she is set in the old ways; a consequence of her upbringing. She believes my word to be the absolute truth. The reality is, we gods are no more perfect than the human beings we created."

"So you admit you've made mistakes?"

"Thomas, we've all made mistakes. But yes, no god is more regretful than I. In my blind rage, I cursed my own niece when I should have been celebrating her joyous occasion. And now, it is your wife who is paying for my mistake. However, my biggest regret is crafting the forge in which Soul Edge was built. My father, Zeus, never forgave me for that. Humanity never forgave me."

"Why haven't you done anything about it? You and the other gods just…Abandoned us; left us to deal with it!"

"Zeus forbade contact with humanity after that. Our era had reached its end. For centuries, however, I secretly summoned holy warriors to track down and destroy Soul Edge. One warrior partially succeeded. I believe you encountered him when your soul was taken to Astral Chaos."

"Necrid?" said Thomas.

"Despite falling under the influence of the sword," continued Hephaestus, "Necrid regained enough sanity to ultimately complete his mission. He flooded the city of Sybaris to ensure the sword or his cursed army never saw the light of day ever again. But still, the sword lived, and I feared the day others would come looking for it. But then, something happened - Something that restored my faith in humanity…"

"What?"

"You, Thomas. You came along and tore that wretched sword apart! For the first time in centuries, I had hope; hope that humanity can achieve anything it puts its mind to."

Thomas contemplated for a moment. If he could inspire a god, then perhaps anything was possible.

"I know this is a lot to take in," Hephaestus said, breaking the silence, "But you cannot end your quest now. Go back to Kyria and continue onward. If ever you find yourself lost, then look for the great, golden pedestal upon which the orange pillar descends. There, you will find hope."

"Huh?" asked Thomas, "What does that mean? What pedestal are…HEY! Wait a minute!"

The bright sphere of light flew up over Thomas' head and hovered there for a few seconds. Thomas stood up and tried to reach for it, but it merely vanished as he did so. Thomas rubbed his head and tried to process what had just happened. Had it all been a dream, or was it real? And what pillar was Hephaestus referring to?

Just then, Thomas was startled by the sound of horses galloping. Fearing the possibility of bandits, Thomas took cover behind one of the crumbling walls and watched as three figures on horseback parked themselves just outside the castle's perimetre. One of the men had a bird perched on his shoulder. It was too dark to make out their faces, but their uniforms gave away their identities.

"Ottoman Janissaries?" asked Thomas, "What are they doing all the way out here?"

For nearly twenty minutes, the soldiers stood in place, conversing in Turkish. It was clear they were waiting for someone. Eventually, Thomas heard more horses galloping. Peering over the wall again, he saw an additional three men arrive on the scene on horseback. This time, it was Sarpedon accompanied by two cultists.

"Sarpedon?" said Thomas, "What's going on?"

"Evening," Sarpedon spoke to the soldiers, "Glad to see you received my message."

The bird flew from the soldier's arm to Sarpedon's.

"You and your organization have a lot of nerve," said the soldier, "Passage through our territory? On such short notice? Bah!"

"Do not forget our arrangement," said Sarpedon, "Our grand priest does not pay you what he does for this kind of hostility."

As Sarpedon and the soldiers spoke, Thomas looked away and rubbed his chin.

"My word!" he said to himself, "Christine was right; the Fygul Cestemus really have swayed the Ottoman military to do their bidding! This is bad..."

"What happened to your boat?" asked the soldier, "Passage by land was not part of the initial plan."

"Well," said Sarpedon, "One of my former travel companions detonated some sort of bomb underneath the ship in some last-ditch effort to stop us. The explosion also caused minor damage to one of our own vessels, specifically the rudder. Travel by sea will take too long now."

"A bomb?" laughed the soldier, "Sarpedon, you never cease to amaze!"

"I did not come here to be mocked," growled Sarpedon, "Now, will you speak to Dragut or not?"

As Thomas spied on the Sarpedon and his allies, he pressed his hands firmly against the crumbling stone wall. One of the bricks came loose and fell to the grassy floor, making a soft "Thud". Sarpedon and the soldiers immediately halted their discussion and turned their heads towards Thomas' location.

"What was that?" asked Sarpedon, suspiciously.

Thomas sat perfectly still behind the wall and held his breath, hoping not to attract any more attention towards himself.

"It's nothing," insisted the soldier, "Listen, we will get in touch with Dragut and have him prepare you vessels in the port of Stagira. As a courtesy, he will also dispatch a small force of men. Will that be all?"

"Yes," said Sarpedon, "Though, if you don't mind, I will need to oversee the vessels you are selecting. By order of Valnykuluk himself."

"Of course," sneered the soldier, "Follow us."

The three soldiers turned their horses around and set off. Sarpedon began to follow them but stopped suddenly, prompting the two cultists accompanying him to stop as well.

"Sir?" said one of the cultists.

"I sensed someone watching us," said Sarpedon, "You two, confirm my suspicions. Kill anyone you find here."

"Yessir," they spoke in unison.

As Sarpedon rode away, the two cultists disembarked their horses and began to scour the area in search of a potential spy. Thomas, who was still hiding behind the wall, grew anxious.

"I have to get out of here," he thought.

As the cultists entered the ruins and continued their search, Thomas crawled from behind the brick wall and made his way deeper inside. He periodically took cover behind a pillar or rock when he sensed them looking in his direction.

"Once I'm back on the path," began Thomas, "Then maybe I can…"

Thomas' train of thought was interrupted by the snapping of a small twig underneath his feet. The noise was loud enough that it attracted the cultists' attention. It wasn't long before Thomas heard them shouting commands in their language.

"Great," Thomas muttered under his breath.

Thomas bolted from the scene, running as fast as he could towards the road that brought him here. The cultists jumped back on their horses and pursued Thomas. It did not take long for them to catch up to him.

"YOU!" yelled one of the cultists, "STOP!"

He then drew a sword and raised it above his head in preparation to cut down Thomas. Thomas, realizing how futile it was to try and outrun a horse, leapt sideways off of the path, narrowly dodging the cultist's incoming blow, but rolling down a steep ditch.

"Ack!"

Thomas was unharmed, but winded, leaving him vulnerable. The cultists doubled back and approached Thomas' location. They once again disembarked their horses and drew their swords.

"No…" pleaded Thomas, as he stared into the cultists' eyes.

Just then, one of the men was struck down by an arrow. Before the other man could react, an arrow struck him down as well.

"What on Earth?" asked Thomas.

Thomas climbed out of the ditch and stepped back onto the road. There, he was greeted by an entire unit of men in steel armour, all on horseback. From behind the men, Kyria emerged.

"Kyria?" said Thomas.

"Glad to see you're alright," she said, jumping down from her horse, "I believe you're already acquainted with Johan?"

The lead soldier lifted his helmet's visor, revealing Johan Dürer's face.

"Thomas," he laughed, "Ready to save your wife?"